


Advent Challenge 2014

by Kit_SummerIsle



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-28 01:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 9,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2713982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_SummerIsle/pseuds/Kit_SummerIsle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The <a href="http://primescream.livejournal.com/">Lj primescream</a> Advent Challenge 2014<br/>Little ficlets for the <a href="http://primescream.livejournal.com/">Lj primescream</a> advent calendar challenge. The chapters will be unconnected fics - unless specifically indicated - set in various times and universes, though mostly G1 and  all featuring Optimus Prime and Starscream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Appropriate wish

**Day 1. - Holiday wishes**

“Whose bright idea was to mix Decepticon names into the hat?!?”

The easy laughter and happy murmurs ceased in the Ark rec-room when Sunstreaker’s unmistakable snarl cut through the din with a tone promising the Pit to the one responsible. He held up a small piece of metal similar to what many of them were already holding, the designation clearly visible on it: “Thundercracker”. A few slight snickers sounded here and there, but the majority of the bots were just as surprised – and abhorred – by the fact as the yellow frontliner.

“Why not? It’s not like you have to… umm, ‘face them… just imagine their faces at receiving Christmas cards!”

This time the snickers were much louder as Sideswipe answered to his twin, his slag-eating grin saying a lot to those knowing him well. Prowl quietly groaned, while Jazz snorted into the tense silence. Optimus Prime froze with his just drawn card, suddenly afraid of reading the designation on it. Surely they wouldn’t dare to put Megatron’s name into the hat???

“I don’t think the humans’ postal service delivers to the Nemesis…”

“In that case you don’t have to worry at all. Who’s that Optimus, don’t be shy! We all wanna know!”

Optimus Prime was glad for the mask to hide his expression as he unfolded the piece of metal.

“ummm…”

The Decepticon alert saved him from answering and the Prime has never been so thankful for them than this time. Even if Jazz looked at him a bit suspiciously. The piece of metal disappeared in his subspace and he ordered them to roll out with surprising vehemency.

-o-o-o-

“A what? Say that again, Soundwave, I must have misheard you!”

“Object received: _postcard_ ” the distaste was clear in the tape-deck’s supposedly unemotional tone “Addressed to: Starscream.”

“What the frag is a postcard?!?”

“It’s what humans send for Christmas, Screamer!” Skywarp’s voice was far too cheerful for Starscream’s frame of mind “A piece of paper with pictures and holiday wishes! Who sent you one? Teltell!”

Thundercracker silently cringed in the background, trying to become one with his monitor and Starscream cast a suspicious glance at him. The blue Seeker was usually in on Skywarp’s pranks but he looked like wanting to disappear this time. 

Soundwave thrust the colourful and minuscule card towards the Seeker, holding it with his smallest feeler instead of his digits. Starscream had to grasp it with his clawtips, holding it close to his face and narrowing his optics to be able to read the tiny marks on it. To his surprise and shock, they were Cybertronian glyphs, not Human writing.

WISHING YOU EVENTFUL HOLIDAYS AND ALL YOUR GOALS TO COME TRUE!  
YOUR SECRET ADMIRER

The picture accompanying the text was for some reason a huge, green crystal tree Starscream faintly remembered from Praxus Gardens, the one sparkling with the fire of the ruby veins lacing through it. And… was that under… no, it couldn’t be…

Skywarp snickered, Starscream twitched as he hadn’t even noticed in his shock that his trinemate got close and was peering over his shoulder. Thundercracker buried his faceplates into his servos. Starscream felt a nanoklik's worth of spark-warming happiness before he ruthlessly clamped down on his emotions. Soundwave was there still, after all, radiating displeasure. 

The minuscule, golden crown twinkled happily under the crystal tree.


	2. Puppy optics

**Day 2. - Ancient Traditions**

 

“Well, they’re stupid!”

“That’s true for most traditions, I know… still, we obey them.”

“I don’t want to!”

“But it’s nothing big… just a short event, some guests and a few words.”

“I refuse to be put on display for organics!”

“It’s not for them! And I thought you liked when others admire your beauty…?”

“Don’t! try to flatter me! I still won’t do it!”

“Starscream… please…? Not for them. For me?”

Starscream refused to look at the Prime’s ‘beaten puppy’ optics. The fragging mech could make him do … well anything if he let those optics work on him. They were even worse than Skywarp’s!

“The answer is NO!”

A low sigh sounded behind him and Starscream nearly turned into his doom, steeling himself at the last klik. He felt rather than heard Optimus stand up, his field brushing him with a wave of disappointment. Fragitall, even his step as he moved away radiated it. Starscream lasted for exactly four nanokliks in the suddenly heavy, oppressive silence. He wondered absentmindedly why – he’d withstood eons of Megatron’s manipulations, there was really no reason for the disappointed mood to affect him so… deeply.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

He grumbled, angry already that he gave in – again! – to the machinations of his bondmate. Optimus Prime might have been a softsparked, naïve fool, but he was a master of emotional manipulation. Unconsciously, of course, the mech would not know real manipulation if it bit him in the aft. He was just… that good.

Starscream’s inner grumbling and twitching wings lasted only until Optimus reached him again and the thankful, happy field blew his discontent away completely. The hug and the enthusiastic kiss was just an extra.

Fragging mech.


	3. Wordless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fic - admittedly a short one but still - without Starscream saying a single word!

**Day 3. - New Traditions**

_warning: heavy petting_

“Thank you.”

Starscream wanted to ask what was there to thank, but the long, deep, drawn-out kiss rather took his attention from the matter. That and those big, knowledgeable servos that roamed on his plating, those blunt digits managing to dip into seams and that heavy frame rubbing on his, making him hot and happy. Was there anything to ask…?

“It wasn’t too bad, right?”

How could he even think of voicing a negative, Starscream wondered dazedly as the attention moved from his cockpit to the wings and sudden, electric heat flashed from wingtip to hinges, weakening his knee-joints as well. He couldn’t do much more than hang onto the red-blue frame that happily supported him.

“I’m glad you agree.”

There was a slight smirk in his tone and Starscream hazily decided to snap at him for the cheekiness… later of course when he collected enough of his processor to be properly angry and screeching and… ohhh… his thoughts hardly coalesced when they were scattered again by the strong thigh pushing in between his legs and RUBBING! and his thruster lifted as though it had a processor on its own and clamped around the Prime’s hip... in move that brought their warm and fast heating more panels close.

“One of the… hnhhh.. more bearable… traditions…”

It was good to hear he was not the only one already beyond coherent speech. A moan spilled from Starscream’s lipplates, a moan that was meant to be something else… something verbal that he had wanted to say… a negative, was it, or an agreement…? He didn’t know any more. Had the evening been utterly unbearable, he wouldn’t remember it. 

“Maybe… we can make new ones… unhhh… like this…”

What was the fool babbling about? Starscream was tired of the nonsensical noise. Grabbing his idiot beloved’s helm and welding their lipplates together felt like a good idea to silence the mech so he did so. He wanted… he wanted… actually he just wanted. Right now.

Things – and traditions – went to the Well after that.


	4. Hidden gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a continuation from chapter 1 –holiday wishes
> 
> this ficlet almost ran away from me a few times, it was hard to rein it back and finish. :-)

**Day 4 - An Unexpected Present**

Optimus didn’t expect any reaction after he had entrusted the card to the care of the postal services. Not only he didn’t sign it, there was no way Starscream could guess who was the sender and it was probably the best for both of them. It still warmed his spark a tiny bit to be able to do this, to give voice to his secret infatuation, inappropriate as it was. He even discouraged Prowl from a harsher punishment when the culprit – Sideswipe, who else? – was discovered. 

Come to think of it, he wasn’t all that sure that Starscream has received the card at all. The postal service man appeared sure of himself when he said that they always delivered, anywhere on Earth, any time – but Optimus couldn’t quite imagine how could they manage a sunken, alien starship full of hostile mechs. But then, the Decepticons did have some dealings with humans, so it might be possible.

In the meanwhile he had quite a lot to do. The holiday season meant that their human friends’ world was in a complete chaos and it affected the Autobots in many ways, a lot of them unexpected. Like the sheer traffic that made it nearly impossible to drive and the accidents that resulted from it. The twins were stuck regularly in traffic jams and Sunstreaker emphatically did not take it well, lately affecting Sideswipe too with his impatience. Prowl looked ready to hand in his resignation in dealing with the two, plus the human authorities.

Optimus was weary and tired after the last such affair that he took on to smooth out instead of his SIC. When, after the long and arduous drive back to the Ark – and contemplating a flying alt more and more seriously as his favourite truck form was definitely not suited to heavy traffic driving – he transformed to the sight of Red Alert in his rarest form, the fearless Autobot leader nearly turned back and took on the traffic instead.

“What seems to be the problem, Red Alert?”

Sparks flew and his security officer spat white noise before he could answer. All bad signs. Very bad. Optimus took a careful step backwards.

“He… he…” the red mech spluttered “He wouldn’t surrender the box to security!!!”

“He… who?”

Maybe he was slow, but Optimus, after the day he had just couldn’t care.

“That would be me, Sir.”

The voice came from somewhere his knee. Optimus looked down and saw a man in a uniform, standing by his own vehicle – and how he haven’t noticed that, Optimus wasn’t sure – amazingly calm in the face of the increasingly irate mech several times his size.

“I have to deliver this to your hands…. umm, servos…? Sir.”

“B-but… Security! It can be a… a bomb! An attempt to deactivate you!”

“Calm down, Red Alert. I am sure, the postal service would not deliver us a bomb.”

“Actually, Sir, we don’t check the parcels’ contents.”

“See? SEE??? It IS a bomb!!!”

Red Alert shrieked, arms flailing. This time even a postman took some steps backwards.

“All right. Lets scan it then. Red?”

“I have to open it and examine and… and… DISSECT IT!!!” 

“No, that would be an overkill and probably damage what’s inside. You may scan it here, after which I’ll take it to my quarters.”

Red Alert looked unhappy, but he produced several scanners, all but attacking the wooden box with them, while Optimus took the delivery note with some difficulties and thought hard how to sign it. The pen that the postman held towards him was easily the smallest thing he had to hold and manipulate lately. Not to mention he never before produced his name-glyphs in quite so tiny size.

“So… are you satisfied, Red Alert? Is it not a bomb after all?”

The answering growl was a bit surprising… like his security officer expected… or even wanted it to be a bomb, just to be proven right. Optimus smiled, if a bit forced and nodded to them, ready for some rest – and to see who and what sent him.

The box contained another, smaller box, revealing the sender in a circumspect way. After all, none of the Autobots would address him as ‘you softsparked idiot’ and he doubted any Decepticons would send him anything. So… Starscream did get the card and decided to answer with a surprise?

Inside the second box was a third, but Optimus didn’t loose his eager curiosity, even smiled a bit at the probable paranoia of the Seeker, wrapping whatever it was inside so securely.

Though his spark started to calm down from its excited flutter and spin slower by the fifth.

The seventh box was quite a bit smaller than the previous ones and cardboard instead of wood. Optimus’s lipplates curved downwards.

The next two were the same and he was starting to sigh a lot.

By the tenth box, Optimus lost his hope for the boxes to contain anything. Probably it was just an elaborate insult from Starscream, a way to tell him where to stuff his wishes and cards in the future.

He seriously considered stopping and throwing away the whole mess that started to cover his room’s floor, but he decided to give a chance to the next box, which, unlike the rest, was painted Decepticon purple.

The small piece of metal inside contained a few glyphs only: “bumper” 

Optimus stared at the glyphs like expecting them to make sense. When revelation didn’t strike, he reached to touch that part of himself hesitantly, like expecting it to explode. It didn’t… but his digits discovered a faint… something on it. Transforming and twisting enough to see it took time and he felt increasingly more weird. He did remember somebody touching his bumper in the traffic jam for a fleeting second, though he paid it no processor at the time.

Finally the recalcitrant bit that wasn’t usually visible in root mood came to view and Optimus wasn’t sure whether to laugh, chuckle or curse at the sight. 

The sticker of a Seeker… of Starscream at that! – and where on Earth had he got it, Optimus haven’t the faintest idea – waved at him cheerfully from his own armor.


	5. Honorable intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation from day 4 – An Unexpected Present

**Day 5 - Shiny**

He had to reciprocate the … gift with something equally ingenious. Starscream was a mech of formidable intellect – besides the ego the size of Cybertron and the vanity surpassing a human diva – and would take a simple, cliché gift as insult. Just as his own gift was equal measures of prank, daring and originality, Optimus would have to answer with something spectacular and one of a kind.

Optimus sat in his office, ostensibly working, but thinking instead, trying to invent an idea that would be as amazing as original… while he absently turned the new invention of Wheeljack over and over in his servos. The gun was one of the few things that survived the inventor’s… _explosive_ way of testing and so deemed safe enough for him to handle. Not that he could see any effectiveness in its workings – the thing didn’t appear to be doing anything harmful, not to mention lethal, so it was as safe as useless really. 

Could he try something with Earth crystals maybe? Optimus knew that Prime or not Prime, Prowl would take him apart into so many bolts if he touched his Praxian crystal collection… and to be honest Earth crystals were just… too small. There were some pretty ones, yes, but their size made them unlikely to impress Starscream. Idea scratched. Optimus idly lifted and pointed the gun towards the office shelf and pressed the trigger.

“Poof!”

Pathetic… Wheeljack surely meant well, but apparently if he made something safe enough to handle, it also meant that it was harmless too. Even that sound… Optimus imagined himself holding the gun and its sound in a middle of a battle. Megatron might laugh himself to deactivation? Nah, he would have no such luck. 

Maybe he could look up some of the human gift ideas on the internet. Their size notwithstanding, they had some really wild ideas when it came to presents and gifts. Optimus set the weapon down and started to immerse himself into the internet… when he happened to glance up to the shelf and the previous ideas suddenly flew out of his processor. 

Optimus Prime took the small statue down from the shelf. It was a really old one, originating from Cybertron, surviving the last few million vorns in his subspace, its paint faded, dented in places, cracked even… but as he stared it now he wouldn’t tell it from a new one. An idea started to form in his processor and Optimus Prime’s lipplates drew to a smile under his mask. It might just work.

Or he might just make a fool of himself. Oh well. No risk, no gain.

-o-o-o-

Starscream hated Earth. Loved it too, when he was soaring high above it in the clear sky and glorious sunshine, but alas, this orn was not for that. This Earth with its gritty, dry, choking dust that went into every crack and seam was something all mechs hated. He looked like a… _scarecrow_ , it was what Skywarp called him before they left the Nemesis and after checking what the frag it meant, Starscream had to admit that it might just be true. 

He was a mess. Not just the dust, but his very self. His armour was faded and chipped, and Megatron thought paint was a superfluous supply to bring in through the space-bridge. Not to mention the welds, dents and scratches that marred him, also thanks to that hulking brute and the distinct lack of decent maintenance that the Constructions failed to supply… yes, even he, Starscream looked far worse than his former best. 

It didn’t matter for a battle where they were heading, he supposed, but in general he was nearly itching to shed the dirty, faded, chipped armor which would be nearly impossible to bring to its former glory, even if he had proper supplies. Which he didn’t. Hmmm… maybe Skywarp could be convinced to raid some paints from the Humans? They were inferior, but anything new-looking would be better than nothing and their waxes were acceptable quality.

On top of everything, Megatron ordered them to remain on the ground again, despite his loud and definite objections. The slagger _knew_ that they were less effective here and still insisted on doing this! It was unacceptable…

Starscream’s thoughts veered away from his laments as the shooting began. Shooting back and watching his trinemates’ back was hard enough without pondering on inconsequentials. For some breems it occupied his attention, but then the Prime appeared on the other side of the battlefield and Starscream watched the mech with conflicting emotions. That card and the wish was… surprising and warming once he got over the shock of it existing in the first place.

He couldn’t say that he had never before looked at Optimus Prime like that… the mech was actually the best Cybertronian leader he had seen and had he become a Prime earlier, Starscream might not have joined the Decepticon side. Good looking too, in that grounder way of his, certainly more noble-looking that Buckethead, with some pleasing colours…

He ducked instinctly as a strange-sounding _poof_ went over his helm and singed his wingtip, which started to… buzz and tingle in a strange way. Starscream yelped automatically, but the thing didn’t actually hurt. Who tried to shoot him? Rising from behind his impromptu hiding place, Starscream saw the Prime lifting a weapon again that was certainly not his usual and target him. For a klik he felt fury mixed with disappointment - did the card and his gift mean nothing? But of course it wouldn’t… – and then the shot found him full on and engulfed him in its laughable _poof_ sound and tingling. 

“Wha…?”

Was he supposed to be injured or insulted that Optimus fragging Prime shot him with a tickling… thingamajig? And the Prime just stood there, watching him with those earnest-hopeful optics he couldn’t make sense of… what was he supposed to do, shoot him back? Mock him? Laugh?

“Wow, Screamer… you’re really shiny all of a sudden!”

“Skywarp…!” – he got to this point when the actual words reached his processor.

Shiny? Sure, the strange tingle was gone and he lifted and arm, staring at it disbelievingly. Pristine white, sparkling in the light of the sun, blazing azure and not a single dent or scratch on the smooth, pearly armor. The rest of him appeared to be the same. 

“Did Optimus Prime… did he just shot you with a gun making you… shiny?”

Thundercracker wasn’t vain at all. Or, well, no more than any other Seeker. But right then, he dragged Skywarp with him by and arm and hollered loudly towards the Autobot now a safe distance.

“Shoot us too you fragger! I refuse to listen to Screamer appraising himself for the next decacyle non-stop! He already has a big enough ego!”

Optimus Prime looked back and his glance went by the blue Seeker. Finding Starscream, still struck mute with amazement he winked before they left.


	6. Choir

**Day 6. - Christmas Carols**

Starscream knew they said about his voice. He had known it for eons and though he still snapped at the ones mocking it on general principles, he had long ago came to terms with its raspiness, the pitch, the screech, the occasional cutting edge that could make mechs run for their audials. He could be pragmatic if he choose to do so and in this case it was better to accept his faulty vocalizer and make the best of it. Including not trying to sing. That was rule Nr. 1. It was important not to screech too much around Optimus and it was better to soften the rasp when in the berth with him… but singing kinda topped the no-no list.

This way he could safely say that the audial-splitting cacophony that came from the Ark rec room was not his doing. Optimus did glance at him when he first heard it, like making sure he was there, by his side and not the instigator - or the source - of the horrendous noises coming from the room. Starscream scowled back at the glance and had a momentary satisfaction at the guilty flash coming from his mate but he, too twitched at a particularly off key sound. 

Scratch that, the noise had absolutely nothing to do with any key found in musical circles. It was like a dying turbofox crossed with a tortured black hole and the result put through a vicious DJ with an attitude. Frankly it hurt his wing sensors, his audials and… if it was that bad for him, Optimus must be in agony. Starscream of course had tremendous tolerance for his own voice. But in front of them, the door was still closed and they were several steps away from the rec-room itself.

Starscream suddenly wasn’t sure if he wanted to get _inside_. 

“I think they could do with some more practice…”

Optimus looked pained and his voice was somehow… tight. Like he would like to use stronger words but politeness didn’t let him.

“What the Pit is going on there?” he was promised a surprise.

“They are… probably practicing…”

“What? Torture techniques?”

“No! Of course not!” – Optimus ignored the murmur that _it would be good for interrogation any orn_ and continued – “They practice singing… ummm… Christmas carols.”

“No, really?” – Starscream nodded his helm to the side, listened for a klik and continued musingly – “And here I believed that my voice was the only one capable of shattering glass…”

“They might be more… enthusiastic than… artful…”

Starscream pondered again and suddenly his smile threatened to split his face. Optimus winced.

“This means the humans won’t dare to come here for Christmas!!! Thank you!”


	7. What do you mean stolen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda... forced, I know, but I couldn't come up with anything better. :-)
> 
> If you squint it is kinda-sorta continuation from Day 5 - Honorable Intentions

“The whole shipment is… gone.”

“What do you mean… gone?”

“Gone, as in… stolen. I’m truly sorry, Optimus Prime, Sir. It was all packed, boxed, ready for transport, exactly as you Sirs ordered, when… the truck-park was broken into and the trailer stolen.”

Optimus stared at the sweating human on the monitor and couldn’t believe what he heard. It was far too late to replace the carefully chosen presents his Autobots decided to give to their human friends. True, they could drive to some shops open late and buy a few things, but… it wouldn’t be the same.

“But… who would steal Christmas presents? I was led to believe it was a sacred holiday for humans and…”

“I’m sorry Sir… we never before had a robbery. Police is still investigating, but…” the human became even more nervous and fearful “… but the signs, and the damage indicate, ummm… other… ooo… mechanoids?”

Optimus stared back wide-opticked and nonplussed.

“Decepticons? Why would they steal… presents…?”

“I do not know that, Sir. Ummm. I can assure you Sir, you will be fully compensated and…”

Optimus wasn’t interested in the rest of it and tuned it out. He sat at his desk for a few more breems, trying to come up with something, a plan to salvage the situations. Their human friends would be here in… less than a joor. His mechs were either decorating or patrolling. Whom could he spare who could be trusted to replace the presents with appropriate ones…?

Shouting and the alert klaxon reached him at the same time and he was out of the chair and running in a klik, presents quite forgotten. He reached the entrance of the Ark the same time as Prowl and the twins and they slid to a stop gaping at the sight outside.

Starscream stood there, accompanied by his trinemate and held his null-rays loosely about them, sneering haughtily. He spoke up before any of them had a chance.

“Next time you order your stupid things in secrecy make sure Laserbeak can’t hear you and think that it is worth stealing!”

Skywarp dropped a truck-trailer in front of Optimus, grabbed his trine-leader’s arm and disappeared in a flash of purple.

Optimus thought he saw a wink before they were gone and he could thank him.


	8. Conflicted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> continuation from day 7 - Stealing Christmas

**Day 8. - Starry Night**

Starscream sat on the cliff over the Ark, encompassed by the complete darkness of the moonless night, elbow joints on his knees, helm propped up in his servos, wings faintly shushing behind him. The sparkling canopy of the sky stretched over his helm, the stars clear and twinkling on the black velvet background. The Seeker stared at the Autobot ship, his optics fixed unwaveringly on the sight – but seeing none of it. Instead a certain Autobot’s image floated in his vision, that last wink and smile combo playing on an endless loop…

Starscream shook his helm to get rid of the annoying image that lodged itself into his visual circuits, but it didn’t go away. He couldn’t understand how the soft-sparked fragger came to be so… important to him. Significant. Whatever. Stupid, sappy, sentimental fragger, monopolizing his thoughts. Starscream haven’t even made a plot to overthrow Megatron for… ages. Since that idiot Autobot sent that slagging card actually. Which he absolutely didn’t keep in his subspace since to look at it from time to time.

He made Starscream… soft. Weak. Sentimental! He should forget the slagger and his stupid gifts. Though, he had to admit, being shiny new was nice too. Even if Thundercracker still pouted when he looked at his trine-leader. Yeah, maybe that was one reason why he haven’t made a move on Megatron – he was loath to loose the pristine paint to a pointless beating. But still, he should forget Optimus Prime and this idiotic… something they had going. And he was not going to call it courting, no, than you. 

He was a Decepticon and the other was an Autobot and that was it. Yes. They were… enemies. There was nothing more. There should be nothing more. There must be nothing more! No gifts and sentimental gestures. No covert looks and certainly nothing like pining for the fragger’s warm smile on a slagging cold, starry - _beautiful and sentimental_ \- night.

Yeah. None.

But he stayed a bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last few days Lj mostly didn't work for me, or when it did it was for minutes and was gone again. Sorry for not reading/reacting there.


	9. Toy Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ref. "Fire in the Sky" episode. Meant to be cracky. Not really succeeded. Here it is.

**Day 9 - Returning a gift**

“Can I return this toy?”

The small child held a box up towards the toy-shop’s counter. The owner smiled at him and took the box.

“What seems to be the problem with it?”

“He is mean. I don’t want him any more.” – the child pouted, obviously near crying – “Can I have a Skyfire instead?”

The shopkeeper blinked, but he accepted the reason without arguing. He’d learned long ago that children’s minds worked in mysterious ways. He put the Starscream toy down to the counter and picked up a slightly bigger package containing the asked-for shuttle. 

“Sure… here you are.”

“Thank you!”

-o-o-o-

Starscream lay frozen in the slagging box, mute and unable to move until the Primus-bedamned effect of the weapon passed. When he was back to his normal size, that inventor was going to deactivate. Slowly. Along with Sideswipe who sent him as a toy to the store. They were… dead. They just didn’t know it yet. Starscream refused to believe that the effects could be permanent. It was impossible.

But he couldn’t help hearing the child who got him for Christmas. He was so happy when he started to watch that slagging cartoon. He was so excited when that ridiculously depicted Seeker-figure found Skyfire in the ice. Starscream had to admit, inaccurate the cartoon was, it still made him reminiscing a bit, despite of the indignity of being mute and a toy.

Until… well, he, too winced at his own actions. He was pretty harsh with Skyfire and that was quite aside from the slagging cartoon that depicted him as a complete idiot. He wasn’t going to feel… compassion for a human child, but… well, he wouldn’t blame him for not wanting Starscream as his toy. Besides him not wanting to be a toy anyhow. 

-o-o-o-

Optimus Prime tried not to laugh. He knew Starscream would see it despite the facemask and he didn’t want the eventual tantrum to be even more spectacular than it was promising to be.

“I promise you that Wheeljack is working on reversing the effects.”

It was strange to talk to a toy… a mech the size of his digits, unmoving and unable to answer. It was hard to believe that he was truly Starscream… until one looked into his optics that practically glowed with rage, quite able to melt metal with his glare. That… that was pure Starscream. 

“And Sideswipe is in the brig for this… prank.”

The glare didn’t lessen for a nanoklik. In fact it was getting stronger until Optimus felt it necessary to put the toy… Starscream down. 

“I want you to promise not to get revenge on them.”

Kind of stupid of him to ask it, since Starscream couldn’t answer, but he had to try. The glare said ‘idiot’ and he kind of conceded the point.

“Or that human child.”

This time, interestingly, the glare shut off and turned into something Optimus hesitated to call pensive. Something must have happened there… but he was sure Starscream would never tell it, not even when he could. 

He couldn’t wait until Wheeljack managed to turn Starscream back into a mech.


	10. Santa and his reindeer

**Day 11 - Red Garments**

“Optimus, trust me. You _are_ the best suited for this role.”

“B-but…”

“No, listen. You are soft-sparked but an authority figure; kind but also stern; mechs like you and look up to you. Just like that stupid… I mean likeable Santa character.”

Optimus didn’t look happy at the praise, rare as it was from Starscream. The reason for this was the paintbrush that the Seeker wielded with gusto, painting every bit of him bright red. Optimus drew a line at a white beard, but he couldn’t slip out from the Santa-clothes. 

“It’s… even so… I’m sure we could have found a costume big enough…”

It wasn’t like he had anything against red, no. But it looked excessive covering the entirety of him with it. He tried not to look into Starscream’s mirror, but when he accidentally did, the reflection looking back to him was more like a brutally enlarged Sideswipe than any kind of a… Santa and he was sure the effect shouldn’t be anything like that.

“But we haven’t. So shut up, it isn’t like you to complain so much. Leave that part to me.”

Optimus stood unmoving – and unhappy - and let Starscream finish the painting. Only when the Seeker was finishing up did his optics suddenly twinkle with rare mischief.

“Starscream?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Santa goes around in a flying sleigh, right?”

The answer was a bit preoccupied, but Starscream mumbled an affirmative and Optimus continued, keeping the smirk out of his voice.

“Will you… be my reindeer?”

The paintbrush stopped in the Seeker’s servo, the wings twitched suspiciously… but Starscream answered calmly enough.

“I guess… I guess I can suffer that role for a night.”

Optimus smirked under the mask. He was soooo dead, but…

“Excellent! I’m sure we can find a can of brown paint still!”

“WHAAAAAAAT????”

It took several joors to calm Starscream down and treat his claw-marks, but Optimus considered it worthwhile, since in the end they agreed that mechs, after all did not need painting mimicking the originals to play the Christmas roles.

The red-and-blue Santa caused no complaints from any mech later on.


	11. Holly King

**Day 12 - Holly King**

“Hey squishy! You got a wrong costume!”

The small human stopped on the corridor and turned towards the far bigger, winged mech lounging in one of the doorways.

“I have a name, Starscream. I find it strange that you attempt to learn our traditions, but deliberately forget that we have names. Oh, and by the way… I have just the right costume, thank you.”

Starscream waved off the complaint like he usually did and didn’t answer the accusation. Optimus was so much into these stupid human traditions, he couldn’t avoid them entirely. The squishies… he could and would if he could help it. They were just so messy…

“Even I know that this Santa guy wears red clothes and white beard. You are… different. Very.”

“Then it is a good thing I am not this… ‘Santa guy’, right?”

“Well, whatever.”

Starscream waved indifferently and almost turned back to their quarters when the human spoke up again.

“You don’t have differing traditions on Cybertron?”

“There isn’t much that remained from Cybertron, human.” Starscream scowled, refusing to remember the view the last he saw the planet.

“I know… sorry, that must have sounded cold… but traditions remain with us even when a place is gone or changed. Do you not have them still? I never saw any of you practicing anything that could be called such.”

“Look, we’ve been fighting a war. You can’t expect mechs to engage in silly things like that while we try to survive!”

“But your war’s ended now. Don’t you have time now to remember your traditions? Before you forget them?”

Starscream stared at the small human again, taking in the appearance. He was wearing a greenish, coarse coat and boots, and on his head a bright green, prickly wreath sat with small red berries. He looked like he just came from a forest, the kind there wasn’t around the Ark for hundreds of miles. Suddenly his memory banks pulled up a picture… of wings being decorated with elaborate chains of metal and studded with crystals, the natural world of Cybertron celebrated by electing a Crystal King, who ruled for half a vorn in the crystal-growing season, before giving his throne – a ceremonial one only of course – to the Rock King, presiding over the season when the crystals waned and turned dark…

“Yeah, that’s kinda similar to what my costume represents.”

Starscream realized suddenly that he’d described the whole thing to the human.

“Is it? It’s… Vosian tradition.”

“Look up Holly King then. You might find it more interesting and similar than Santa… who is a kinda made-up tradition and much commercialized.” 

The small human smiled at him and Starscream couldn’t scowl back as he would usually do. They actually… talked and the squishy wasn’t even half bad. But his countenance turned darker suddenly.

“Optimus indulges you humans with your traditions, while he’s forgetting ours.”

“Maybe you should help him remember. We never intended our traditions to supplant your own.”

“Well, it kinda happened anyway.”

“You know what? If you’re willing to tell me more, I could get my friends to help and together we could celebrate your holidays too. If you’re… willing to work with us, that is…”

Starscream stared down at the strangely dressed human. The offer was completely surprising, since as a general rule he didn’t care for the humans and in turn they avoided him like he had rust. But he was right, too. With the war ended, they should awaken Cybertronian traditions and not just mimic the human ones. Optimus should lead this and not celebrate human holidays!

“I think… it could be done.” – he paused, surprised by his own willingness to work with a human – “And yes… we had different traditions too in different cities. The one I told you wasn’t known in the other regions, where crystals grew and shone all vorn long.”

“Excellent! I’m looking forward to hearing all of them!”

Starscream nodded as the human moved on towards the rec room. His processor was already looking up the ‘Holly King’ and its attendant stories. Yeah, he admitted to himself, it was eerily similar to the Vosian legend. Maybe he should tell about it to Optimus. Nudge him a bit too. Might work.


	12. Fierce Battle

**Day 13. - Snowball War**

The snowfall surprised both sides. They were in a fierce but stalemated battle, far up the north and every mech hated the cold and the frost that made lubricants thicken, joints get stuck and weapons unreliable. But the snow was still a surprise and an unwelcome one, especially with the rate it was falling, soon blanketing the battlefield with a layer of fluffy, white cover. It melted on their hot frames, the cold water dripped and oozed into everywhere and made relays and connections spark, sizzle and occasionally pop. 

The first to drop his smoking weapon was Wildrider and the mad Stunticon hesitated only for a klik before gathering up a small mound of snow and balling it up, let it fly at to the closest Autobot.

Cliffjumper gaped as the large, white, soft projectile enveloped him almost completely and made him struggle to get out of the suffocating, melting, sparkling, fizzling… and generally annoyingly harmful material. By the time he managed it, Wildrider was well away, cackling madly.

“Hey, that’s funny!”

Starscream rolled his optics. Trust Skywarp to find such an idiocy funny… but when the purple Seeker buried Ironhide in a mound of snow, he had to concede the effectiveness of it. When a large, icy ball slammed into his wing, courtesy of those irritating twins, making him yaw and work hard to regain his equilibrium he was sold on the idea. Maybe he too was bored by the stalemate.

Okay. Let’s… act like sparklings. If it works?

Starscream gathered up some snow and jumped into the air quickly. Looking around he quickly found his target and released a few snowballs. Rolling away cackling he saved the enraged faceplates of Mighty Megatron caked with white to his memory banks.

“STARSCREAM!!!!!”

“Oops… a mistake, my liege, I assure you!”

He threw a few snowballs at Optimus Prime too, but the Autobot was quick enough to turn and the white balls splashed ineffectually against his back plates. Starscream wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a smirk from him before he pelted Starscream with a round of snowballs that slammed into his fuselage.

Starscream dropped the remaining snow on top of him before it melted and swerved away, still laughing. As he looked around, most of the battle has deteriorated into a snowball-fight, with the remaining – sane – mechs watching the developments unbelievingly. Somehow, he didn’t care. Maybe snow did get into his processors, but he enjoyed the fracas. 

It wasn’t like switching the weapons to snowballs made a whole lot of difference in the battle…


	13. Every mech needs a hobby

**Day 14 - Handmade Gift**

Starscream wasn’t really sure how he came to learn about this particular activity. Probably from one of his trine-mates; while Skywarp ate up human trash culture like it was energon candy, Thundercracker was avidly watching anything educational in the numerous channels they could tap into. Starscream couldn’t even blame them, or the rest of the Decepticons for it; they were created for the war and so never had a real education, a chance to enjoy civilian activities, or even entertainment. Few remembered Cybertron existing before the war any more.

But whoever he learned this human pastime from, he became kind of fond of it. Unlike the original fragile, soft human materials, his version was worthy of Cybertronians, and the principles worked the same for them too. Starscream experimented with several kinds of metals for this purpose and while steel sheets were the easiest to work with and readily available, copper and aluminum gave more esthetically pleasing results. Quietly raiding a metalworking plant gave him plenty of material to work with. 

The extra bonus of the activity was that not even Megatron could call it a plot against him – though Starscream was sure the last time the fragger found him doing it he firmly put Starscream into the ‘disturbed in the processor’ category. He didn’t mind it really. The activity was calming as well as useful. And it gave him an idea…

-o-o-o-

Optimus stood frozen in the door to his quarters, optics going wider by the klik. The small… well, not that small things hanging from his room’s ceiling gently swayed in the currents of air, reflected lights sliding on their metallic edges to dance on the walls and furniture. They sparkled with many colours but not with paints – just the metals’ own tint giving them all individuality.

He reached up gently to touch one and to see what they were meant to be… and in a klik the shapes resolved themselves as many small Christmas trees. Apparently folded from metallic sheets, much like humans’ origami, adapted to their size and materials. They were.. perfect. 

Optimus slowly walked into his room, marveling at the individuality of the seemingly uniform pieces, the unique décor transforming his room into an art gallery… and started to wonder who made the surprise. No mech came to his processor who would have such a hobby… until he reached one piece that was different. 

Of course… smiling slightly, he reached up to gently touch the small jet flying among the Christmas trees.

p

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can do only basic origami but I love these as Christmas decoration and make them every year:
> 
> http://www.greenstylegallery.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/decorating-small-christmas-tree-ideas-for-small-living-room-space.jpg
> 
> How to fold christmas trees: http://krokotak.com/2013/11/fold-a-fir-tree/
> 
> I thought origami with metal sheets was something that would appeal to Starscream. :-)


	14. Mistletoe

**Day 15. - Mistletoe**

“Don’t you want to kiss under it?”

Starscream turned his helm towards him, brow-plates drew high at the mischievous voice of his bonded. He has just hung some sprigs of mistletoe over the door and the windows.

“Kiss? No.” he paused for a klik and continued “Not that I have anything against kissing, but the mistletoe has a different purpose.”

Optimus looked back questioningly.

“What other purpose?”

“Supposedly it keeps away harmful spirits, demons.”

“I never heard that one… ummm... do we have demons wanting to come in…?”

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to see if it works against Skywarp.”

Lipplates drew into a smirk under the mask. Skywarp apparently had no concept of private sphere and popped into their quarters in the most… inappropriate moments often. 

“If it works, we’ll keep it.”

“Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much, but I wanted to write something different than kissing under the mistletoe, which is not a tradition in my country (Hungary). For us mistletoe has a different magic, that of keeping away the bad spirits from the house that want to come in during the darkness of winter.


	15. Ice

**Day 16: Frozen**

“Where’s Starscream?”

Optimus wasn’t worried. Not yet. Starscream has sometimes gone flying for joors and turned his comm off to enjoy his freedom uninterrupted. Or got immersed in something interesting half a world away and didn’t notice time’s passing – it was something all scientists appeared to be prone to. So when Starscream didn’t turn up by the mid-orn fuel, he wasn’t worried. The Seeker was a big mech and annoyed often if he felt Optimus overprotective.

By evening he couldn’t stop the worried thoughts from taking over his processor and when the stars came out, he was pacing in front of the Ark’s entrance, staring at the sky and hoping to hear jet engines approaching. Only, they didn’t.

“Teletraan, locate Starscream.”

“Location presently unknown.”

“When did he leave the Ark? Which direction?”

It took a few kliks for the computer system to check all outbound traffic before answering in its unemotional tone.

“Starscream did not leave the Ark. Last confirmed movement is inbound.”

So he was… within the Ark? Unresponsive? Optimus’s already substantial worry suddenly grew tenfold. Leaving the command center, he hurried to his security director’s hub.

“Red Alert? Can you locate Starscream through internal cameras?”

“What did he do, Sir? Should I raise alert?”

“No, Red, nothing like that. He is… missing. I’m worried.”

Red Alert cast him an uncertain glance, but started to shift through his surveillance feeds, going backwards in time. Optimus stood beside him, fear slowly growing in his tanks.

“There!” the word was too loud in the silence of the room and Red Alert pointed to a monitor “entering to storage room… XT32…Sir, that’s… the lowest level, the one damaged in the crash.”

“Did he depart from the room?”

“Not by the door.” Red Alert’s frown was nearly a palpable thing but Optimus didn’t care. He was already out of the door, nearly running towards the indicated place. 

He only slowed when arriving to the door of the storage room, bringing his worried ventilation under control. Opening the door he saw nothing in the darkness. Bringing up his headlights illuminated a…

… was that ice?

It appeared to be a mound of dirty, yellow-white ice and Optimus peripherally noted the cooling unit by one wall and the ambient temperature of the room, which was much lower than it should be. Starscream wasn’t immediately visible in the room, but Optimus had a passable hunch – and a very bad feeling - about the ice. More and more it looked like a prank on the Seeker and his worry shifted from Starscream’s wellbeing to his probable revenge on the pranksters, once free of the… ice.

A quick scan more or less confirmed his hunch – the ice contained metal, its mass comparable to Starscream’s. Now… how to free him? He turned off the cooler, but waiting for the ice to melt was going to be far too slow, especially as he noticed that it wasn’t even starting to melt as the room’s temperature rose. He started to chip away the ice, coupled with his own heaters turned to maximum and in a few breem’s patient work he was rewarded by his mate’s colours appearing behind the thinning cover.

He thought Starscream would break the ice as soon as he was capable, but the Seeker didn’t move and Optimus’s worry started to return in increments. Something was… wrong. A few joors of freezing temperatures should not have harmed him… but he was silent and dark beneath the ice.

Optimus redoubled his efforts. In a breem he held his mate’s stiff frame in his arms, the plates radiating deadly cold still. He was out and no effort would wake him up.

_“Ratchet! Starscream got… I think pranked and frozen. I found him and he’s not responding! I’m taking him to medbay!”_

_“Shouldn’t be harmed by cold… but bring him here.”_

Laying the stiff frame to the medbay berth, Optimus let Ratchet scan him. The medic frowned as the scan results came in.

“He’s in stasis. But I don’t get why… his systems are warming up… a bit slow but he should be fine.”

But he wasn’t fine. Ratchet tried to bring him out of stasis a number of times, but his processor refused to do it, even after his frame temperature rose to normal levels. 

Optimus fretted for joors and he punished the twins far harsher than he would normally for a prank. Not that anyone told him so. This time, they went too far, cause actual harm – even though nomech, not even them quite knew how or why.

When Starscream opened his optics on the third joor, Optimus was at the very end of his calm – or semblance of such. 

“Ooomph… you’re… crushing me, you oaf!”

“Sorry, sorry… I was… so worried!”

“Shouldn’t be _you_ who’s worried…”

His tone didn’t bode well to the twins but Optimus just couldn’t care.


	16. It Takes a Miracle

**Day 17: Divine intervention**

“Starscream… please…”

“I don’t care about a human celebration!”

“But… everyone celebrates!”

“Not everymech. I am not.”

“For me…?”

“Not even for you. I hate that we celebrate human holidays and forget ours.”

“Can we discuss this afterwards? I promise, I’ll listen to you.”

“Don’t do it just to humor me!”

“No, I mean I know you’re right, just… can you not… I don’t know, pretend that you like it?”

“Absolutely not! Go on, enjoy the celebration. I’ll be here when you return. Probably.”

Optimus Prime left their quarters with a heavy spark. He knew that Starscream didn’t care much about human traditions, but he still hoped that he could convince him to take part. It was dismaying that the Seeker was unwilling to bend in this, but in retrospect he couldn’t have been surprised. He joined his mechs in the decorated rec room and tried to summon some good mood so they wouldn’t notice his disappointment. He couldn’t do much about the ominous lack of his bondmate though.

He more or less slogged through the first part of the celebration and even started to regain some inner peace when the time of gifts came and mechs started to present their friends and loved ones with boxes and packages… while his had to sit under the tree and he could only watch the others having a great time…

“Stop looking so miserable.”

“Starscream?” his optics couldn’t grow any wider.

“You know… when you left, our quarters had a curious electric failure, blowing out all the lights. Then your slagging candle exploded – and no, Wheeljack won’t be allowed to make any more for you - and I got covered in melted PINK wax. The wash-rack had only cold solvent and I broke a brush into my wing joint. Took fragging forever to dig all the slivers out in the dark. The energon dispenser gave only high grade and the first two cubes broke.”

Starscream paused, looking at him scowling, but Optimus felt the underlying humor too.

“If fragging Primus wanted me to celebrate with you this evening, he should have just told outright!”


	17. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation from day 16 – Frozen

**Day 18: Blanket**

Optimus didn’t ask what Starscream has done to revenge the ice-episode. He didn’t want to know – in fact he was glad that the twins survived it at all. Starscream didn’t say anything about it either. He didn’t mention the incident or its aftermath at all. All was as it should have been, Christmas was approaching fast around the corner and all the chaos it brought kept Optimus busy enough to fall into recharge once he got into their quarters. Even their lovemaking appeared to be hurried these orns.

But one night cycle something woke up Optimus, some noise he couldn’t identify and before he could surrender to recharge once more he glanced at Starscream by his side. The Seeker was deeply in recharge, ventilation shallow and even… but he looked somehow… bulkier than usual. But Optimus was far too tired to solve problems during the dark cycle and he sank into his own rest, promising himself to ask later.

When he came out of recharge, Starscream was already up, a surprising enough occurrence for the Seeker who loved to sleep in. Optimus glanced sleepily and curiously at his mate and saw a movement so fast it might have only been his imagination. Something big and definitely darker than Starscream’s colours was snatched away and disappearing into subspace. Starscream appeared to be avoiding his glance as he rolled off the berth, stretching nonchalantly.

“What is it, Star?”

“What is what?”

The answering question was snappish and annoyed.

“Did you… have you hid something?”

“Nothing!”

“Starscream…”

“Nothing that should interest you!”

Optimus was wide awake by this time and got up to lightly pet a nervously trembling wing. Starscream was rarely… upset. Mostly he moved on to stronger emotions.

“I see that you are upset. I’d like to help… if I can. I’m not idly digging into your things.”

“It’s... nothing… I can handle it!”

Usually, Optimus would accept it, since Starscream was perfectly capable of managing his doings – but this time he sensed more.

“I know that you can. But I’d like to help… if I can.”

Starscream seemed to hesitate, sharp denta worrying his lipplates for a few kliks. 

“It’s… just… I feel cold sometimes, all right?”

“Cold…?” then it all fell into place “Was that a blanket?”

“Yeah… it’s stupid. I don’t need it. I’ll throw it away.”

“Starscream… it’s all right nee… wanting it. I don’t think any less of you for having some comfort.” He hugged Starscream to him, stroking the wings gently “there’s no need to hide it from me.”

Starscream was still a bit stiff, but the majority of the unease left his field, leaving only a bit of embarrassment. Optimus didn’t ask more. He was sure the prank with the ice was responsible for the reaction, but he also knew that Starscream would deny it if asked and honestly, it didn’t matter. 

“Still… I’ll make sure to properly warm you up before recharge.” he growled playfully, the petting turning into something much more suggestive.

“I’ll hold you to that!”


	18. Different memories

**Day 19: Ghost of Christmas Past**

“Do you remember our first Christmas?”

“If you mean the last, it wasn’t really _ours_ …”

“No, but it was around that time we first… you know, kinda… courted?”

Optimus looked dreamy and nostalgic, indulging in his memories of the past. Starscream looked back at him with a sharply lifted brow-plate and a scowl.

“I spent the last ‘Christmas’ unconscious in the Nemesis med bay, thanks to Megatron and your completely transparent courting attempts that he judged as treason.”

“umm…”

Optimus apparently didn’t know about it if his shocked expression was anything to go by.

“You… you never told me this…”

“It wasn’t important… not after what happened.”

“I thought… you seemed to like the gifts and the rest…”

“I did. Megatron? Not so much. So, no, Optimus, to me the last Christmas was nothing special and certainly not _ours_.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…” Optimus looked crestfallen but his optics glinted with determination “I’ll try to give you better impressions about this one!”

Starscream’s lips drew to a smile. Fragger’s optimism was downright contagious.

“I certainly hope so.”


	19. Letter to Santa

**Day 20: A Letter to Santa**

“Why do we have write letters to this Santa character?”

“Yeah, doesn’t he have an e-mail address? A mobile number?

Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr? Anything…cool?”

“Does he even know what the internet is?”

“I bet he doesn’t!”

“He has to. After all he gives modern gifts too.”

“I don’t think I ever wrote a letter…”

“Yeah, me neither. Can he read our glyphs or just human letters?”

“Well frag. I have already written mine in Iaconian.”

“But he’s a human, right?”

“Well, he’s a human… god? Is he a god?”

The small group in the Ark’s rec room fell silent for a few breems while they pondered about the problem. Starscream sat by Optimus, who was reading a datapad and he tried not to laugh too loud at the conversation.

“Hey Screamer! Have you written your letter?”

Sunstreaker yelled over the debate to him and many others lifted their helms and listened. Starscream smirked back and snuggled deeper into Optimus’s lap.

“Nope. I have my Santa right here and he can hear me just fine.”

Optimus smiled slightly under his mask and pinked up a little at the catcalls.


	20. Naughty Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> continuing from day 20 - letter to Santa

**Day 21: Naughty or Good?**

“So you have your Santa at your beck and call, ehh?”

Starscream squirmed as the deep, resonant voice vibrated right through him when Optimus spoke with his lips right on his cockpit. Fragging Pit! He was going to melt through the berth soon.

“I… ahhhhh… yes! And! He’s remarkably… ohh… do that again!... like you!”

“Is he now?”

“Yupp! With presents and gifts and all that… hnnnhh… slag!”

“I definitely overindulge you then.”

“Do you hear me complaining?”

Optimus lifted his helm for half a nanoklik, blue optics glinting mischievously, lips drawing to a smirk.

“Every orn.”

But before Starscream could properly be miffed, his lips returned to the cockpit and Starscream could only groan and all thoughts seemed to scatter at the pleasurable torture he lavished on the Seeker.

“N-not now…”

And that was the last of their coherency speaking for the night.


	21. Ooops...

**Day 22: Fireplace**

The fireplace wasn’t a real, wood-burning one. Not only one such in their size would consume whole tree trunks to fire up, but the Ark was glaringly not equipped with chimneys and Red Alert categorically refused the possibility of building any. The slight matter of mechs not needing external heating with open fire, when most of them habitually operated with inner temperatures higher than a simple wood-fire could was just an minor side-detail. Humans were shocked also to hear that bath for them meant boiling oil or even molten lava if they felt like indulging in luxuries. 

Still, the idea of fireplaces for comfort and good feelings captured the imagination of some mechs. Unfortunately one of those was Wheeljack – and the inventor and fire never mixed well. It was highly unfortunate – in retrospect – that his first prototype of an energon-fuelled, mech-sized, smokeless fireplace was working without a hiccup in the rec-room and its simulated flames were an instant success among the crew. Optimus was thrilled by the idea and secretly asked the immensely proud inventor for a second one, to his and Starscream’s shared quarters.

It was an easy conspiration with his trine-mates to draw Starscream to an extended mapping excursion of the solar system, while the fireplace was installed and Optimus could hardly await their return to introduce his mate to the ridiculously sentimental comfort of cuddling in the light of the flames… and maybe do more than just cuddling. Ahem.

He even expected the Seeker to be critical at first and sneering at the human concept and was ready with the properly fluffy, sappy and suggestive counterarguments that he knew Starscream, for all his outward disdain, couldn’t resist. For all mechs thought Starscream manipulative, he could be one just as much and with even better results…

And the fireplace, he had to give it that, worked properly for all of five kliks. Just enough for Starscream’s countenance to soften and his wings relax. Then they tensed up again as the scientist’s trained sensors sensed something wrong and the energon-reaction went wrong… explosively. He tried to protect Starscream – there had been no time to run or flee – and he more or less succeeded; the Seeker only had to spend an orn in med-bay with some singed plates and melted wingtips as compared to his three while the irate Ratchet replaced basically his whole backside.

What surprised most Optimus afterwards was that Starscream wasn’t even angry. He spent the next few orns while Optimus was recovering by taking apart the still-working fireplace in the rec room and the remains of the one among the ruins of their quarters, to determine the reason for the explosion – or rather the reason why the other thing worked perfectly still. Optimus was secretly a little afraid that he would try to improve the whole concept.

If he lived for a billion vorns, Starscream could still surprise him.


End file.
